


The debriefing

by Chuksha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, BDSM, Breathplay, D/s, Dark!Harry?, Fluff, Hair Pulling, M/M, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Possessive!Harry, Preparation, Strangling, alt universe extended war post hogwarts, anal penetration, erotic apshysiation play, mint lube, ref to dub con, ref to marking!kink, ref to violent sex, refrences to war, slight masturbation, slight size queen! Snape, snarry, sub!severus snape, use of cock rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuksha/pseuds/Chuksha
Summary: "Potter's smile was predatory, dangerous and his eyes sparkled with mischief. Severus groaned softly. He knew that look. Potter was in the mood to torture him."





	The debriefing

 

 

Severus stood under the shower and allowed the heat to permeate into his shoulders and caress his tired muscles. Albus had no idea the cost of spying on the dark lord since Potter had become a man, the war had changed and the tactics with it since Hogwarts had been taken. He slumped under the almost scalding hot stream, eyes half closed, heart pounding even in his exhaustion. Potter expected him tonight. That was the arrangement. Three years in Severus still didn't understand what the boy- young man- gained from the time spent together. He could not possibly be acting out any real want or preference for more than a warm obedient body.

 

Severus had known when Albus' power had begun to fade, he'd felt it the moment the mark had burned hotter than any spell Dumbledore could cast or devise. The old man's arrogance; his absolute belief that he could control something so dark, so insidious, had nearly killed them both before he'd broken the last of that bond forged when Severus had been young and stupid and he offered himself to Potter instead. Potter was stronger, younger, more virile, more powerful, just, so much more... Severus' hand slipped between his thighs, ghosting over his own flesh and raising it in a moment, reminding himself that for all of his past he was still a healthy and reasonably young man, nothing quite set his blood alight like the thought of that power Potter wielded flowing through him, wrapping around him.

 

Potter didn't even have to be present for his power to make itself known. Severus winced at the tightness of the ring, a small price to pay for Potter's protection; His possessiveness, his desperate need to control something, he was very good at making it seem personal too. Severus had required a will as strong as iron not to fall for it even if he had developed a taste for soft caresses and gentle aftercare that he'd never had call to even consider as options when he'd belonged to the dark lord alone.

 

 -

 

Severus' hair was still wet from the shower and his cock still hard and untended under the loose fabric of running trousers when Potter barged into his bedroom with all the hesitance of a raging bull. He'd seen no need to suffer a shirt only to stain it red where the wounds were still open and irritated. He heard Potter's gasp. Today had been difficult. He had several new injuries. His mouth was still tingling from the taste of mint toothpaste and strong mouthwash. Severus had frozen, hand already on his wand when the door flew open. He heard the door click closed and relaxed.

"I made a show of having a headache and going to bed before supper," Potter said quietly. "Given the state of your back, I think I probably have more than enough excuse." Severus stood slowly from where he'd been leant over the bed before Potter entered.

"Quite." Potter stepped right into his personal space and Severus still tensed. Potter knew better than to take it personally. Potter pressed a hand on his shoulder, easing him into the bed. Severus moved obediently. This he never understood, why Potter bothered. He heard Potter call for that infernal elf and send him for dittany, swabs and the usual potions. "Not the bruise balm." Severus murmured quietly into the pillow. If he returned within days and Severus had no marks it would be worse the second time around. Potter hummed quietly as the elf reappeared back in the room with a pop then was gone again at his word of thanks.

"Brace yourself," Potter told him softly, Severus did. He'd used dittany enough times to know its burn and to respect the pain it could cause. Potter was quick, the pain minimal, he'd developed quite the healer's touch in the last few years. His hands ghosted overs Severus' too thin body and he sighed softly. The mark was raw and stark against Severus' arm from the close contact with the Dark Lord. The softly spoken cooling charm was like a kiss from an angel as the burn eased into a tingle and the mark began to fade as it should. Potter dropped a kiss between Severus' shoulder blades, making his back arch as he stroked deft fingers over sensitive spots around Severus' hips, drawing back the trousers he'd pulled on absently for the sake of nothing more than a little warmth whilst he waited for the young man.

Potter's hand traced over the almost none existent curve of his arse and Severus made a sound that was entirely unbecoming. Potter's low chuckle seemed to rumble from the depths of his chest as he slipped his hand between easily yielding thighs once Severus had kicked the trousers from around his ankles off the bottom of the bed. He felt Potter's hand slow, stroking over the fresh bruising and scratches, soft charms for delicate cleansing and healing washed over even the most intimate of areas the Dark Lord had seen fit to invade. Potter's hand shook as he took in the evidence of what being the Dark Lord's favoured actually entailed. Tonight Potter held his tears and Severus was grateful, he didn't always. Severus wasn't sure he had the capacity to comfort anyone else tonight. The boy carried enough weight on his shoulders without taking on responsibility for this. This wasn't his doing. A short burst of two sharp taps on his thigh and Severus rolled over without a word. Potter didn't talk much, unlike the Dark Lord who didn't stop. Potter's hand slipped back between his thighs, drawing him slowly back into a state of blissful thoughtless arousal. Severus couldn't help himself comparing. The dark lord never took such care, there were spells to force a response if that was his wont.

"Stop it, Severus." Potter knew him too well, knew what he was doing. "You're with me now, not him." Severus let himself obey, this was easy, this wasn't forced grovelling or blank obedience, this was real. The sharp twinge in his cock made him wince, Potter hadn't even touched it yet and he was aroused enough to feel the need for the ring around it. Potter's hand slipped behind his balls and Severus let out a low gasp as soft fingers stroked the sensitive flesh. He reached out and gripped potter's shirt.

"Stop," he hissed out, "teasing." Potter's smile was predatory, dangerous and his eyes sparkled with mischief. Severus groaned softly. He knew that look. Potter was in the mood to torture him. Potter took his hand and carefully unlatched his fingers from the material, he even had the nerve to kiss Severus' fingertip, to suck his index finger and trail his tongue between them languidly. Severus made some indiscriminate noise, Potter liked to hear him. He felt the smile again, pressed against his fingers and Potter climbed, fully clothed onto the bed. Severus felt the hard press of denim against the back of his thighs as Potter took hold of his legs and guided them around his own waist.

Potter's hand returned to his hips, lifting him without preamble as the unnecessary pillow appeared between Severus and the mattress. Potter was obsessed with small comforts, it was what made him different. Even in war, the young general had a soft heart to contrast his battle hardened head. He leant down over Severus, his hands either side of Severus' head to support himself before he lowered himself slowly to his forearms, mouth already finding the dip of flesh where Severus' collarbone became his neck, kissing his way across the scarred flash without hesitation, claiming without marking.

"One day," Potter breathed, the same aroused promises, declarations that meant nothing, had to mean nothing because what else could they be, "one day I'll mark you, one day he'll never be able to touch you again." The same empty promises, Severus let himself hear them but took care not to believe too strongly, hope could destroy a man in these troubled times. "One day I'll take you for mine alone," potter's hands were doing things to him that no man should have the power to make another feel. Severus' back arched as he pressed himself against the soft cotton and rough denim edges of potter's clothes, his belt buckle, hard and cold against Severus' waist, the buttons of his shirt trailing up Severus' body and chest and biting into his skin.

He could feel how hard Potter was, smooth endless planes he'd chiseled from the body of a soft boy through sheer hard work, hours of toil and sweat. Potter started unfastening his shirt absently, Severus found his hands taking over the job without thought, leaving Potter free to remove his own belt. Severus deliberately didn't watch as Potter flung it aside: belts, he remembered how he'd genuinely panicked and thought Potter might kill him the first time the glint of buckle and snap of leather had stilled his hand and glazed his eyes with memories he'd believed long and deeply buried. He remembered how Potter had kissed his way down Severus' neck, stroked soft fingers over his ribcage and whispered in his ear with all the power and determination of an offended dominant male that he would never! There had been no talk, no need to say anything, but just accept it; and Severus had, for the sake of his own sanity. The unspoken, unwritten list of their limitations gained another entry. To his credit, Potter respected those limits, he respected the boundaries Severus set without a word. They both knew he didn't have to.

Severus had actually whimpered then, as he did now and the soft touch turned hard for a moment, a powerful hand cupped his chin and lifted his head so their eyes met. Albus had lied. Potter didn't have his mother's eyes; hers had been light, innocent and young. Potter had never been young or innocent. Potter kissed him, softly, sucking on his lip, tongue slipping between them and exploring his mouth and Severus allowed himself to be distracted, to let the last of his tension drain away. Potter's hand was back between his legs, Severus shifted just so, granting access without a word. The cool liquid gel coating Potter's fingers as caressed and manipulated the freshly healed ring of muscle to allow him to slip in a single digit. Severus let out a low gasp as Potter crooked his finger, stroked and pressed until Severus was loose enough, desperate enough for more and only then did he provide. The trace of mint in the lubricant, making him tingle and burn with want. A second finger, writhing inside him, stroking and twisting and sending flashes of white across his vision as the pleasure came in waves and he felt the bite of that ring, sharp and tight, controlling his response, drawing out the inevitable. Severus' hands scratched for hold on the freshly laundered bedsheets as a third digit slipped through and he clamped down reflexively, too much, too fast.

Potter licked and sucked and kissed his way across Severus' ribs, down his pelvis, worked Severus into a tangle of tension and tightness and heat with his mouth. Severus let his head fall back as hot breath ghosted over the tip of his penis, followed by a short blow of cool air as his body seemed to contract and he writhed. Potter was good at this, at pushing just too much then making him want more. The heat of his mouth made Severus' hips thrust aimlessly; his body betraying the cool control he guarded with his life except in these moments. A hand held him down as that heat closed around him and he let out a hiss of pleasure.

He felt Potter smirk, that amusement sending fresh tingling through his balls as Potter thumbed behind them. Severus actually thought he might pass out as the pleasure hit him again. Potter's mouth, his tongue tracing veins and patterns on the underside of Severus' cock, taking it deeper with every dip of Potter's neck. Potter's hand slipped out of him and Severus let out a desperate keening sound of want and need. Potter kissed the inside of his thigh as he lifted himself to his knees, hands working at the button and zip of his jeans and Severus waited. Potter liked to do this himself, to make Severus watch as he opened his jeans and pushed his underwear aside just enough to free himself, to free the hardness that had been straining and pressing through too many layers of clothing. Their eyes met and Severus knew Potter was waiting for his signal, his consent to keep going where he was pressed against Severus' arse, his tip pressing against the stretched muscle.

He nodded once and potter didn't hesitate, he pressed home and the pain-pleasure burn of taking his girth, the shot of electricity as his length filled Severus completely made him writhe and shudder like a man possessed. Potter, at least twice the man the dark lord was; moving slowly, teasing, drawing out the sensations as he moved. Potter didn't need blood and torture to prove his manhood, Potter didn't scratch or cut or curse as he claimed. His magic was warm, soft and soothing, seemed to wrap itself around Severus as he pressed in again and again. Severus felt the burn, the press of potter's magic against the mark, banishing it, burying it, achieving a level of control that Albus never had. That Albus had been too squeamish, too honourable, too old to take -even when Severus' life had been on the line he hadn't had the gumption to do it. Not that Severus had ever pushed that hard, even he had standards after all.

Potter's gasp in Severus ear was warning enough of the tightening of the grip on his hip pulling him upwards, creating the angle Potter preferred as Severus' body reacted as if it had never been touched like this, as if he were a younger man in the throes of the new discoveries of spring. Potter took his lips, kiss bruised and sensitive, the only mark he ever left, and claimed his mouth fleetingly, like the swelling and sensitivity he'd drawn already. A hand found its way into the still damp tangle of Severus' hair, pulling his head and drawing out a gasp of pain that melted into a whine of pleasure when Potter's tongue found his neck, when soft hot breath ghosted over his pulse and lips sucked eagerly at his jugular. Severus bit back the rising fear as it brought him to a whole new level of ecstasy; Potter could and would tear his throat out if he wished to. That was what made him powerful, what had drawn Severus to him in the first place, Potter was dangerous. Severus had always been drawn to dangerous. Dangerous men were safe, they were possessive and protective of their own and Severus gave them everything.

"Severus," the soft whisper made him still, drew his attention and forced him back to the moment, "stop thinking," it wasn't a request, Potter liked him here, in the moment not lost behind his occlumency. Potter's thumb pressed against his windpipe and Severus vision darkened as he struggled for breath. In this moment he held Severus' life in his hands, quite literally, and Severus finally succumbed completely to his will. He let out a low sound of fear, to let Potter know and feel what he was feeling, this wasn't about playing or politics, this was Severus raw and real and oh so very afraid for his life. Deliciously broken and afraid as he whimpered and fought uselessly. This was why Potter wanted him, the moment he broke; Potter fed on it, the power and the skill it took to break the spy bolstering his ego, soothing his hurts and his failures. But it had to be real. He had to mean it.

"Please," the low gasp, high pitched and raw as Severus reached out blindly, one hand catching onto Potter's left shoulder, the other wrapping around right forearm and Potter pressed tighter, the soft growl of an order barely processed in Severus' mind as his body obeyed. Still, his master demanded so still he would be. The thrust of hardness inside him, drawing what little breath he had in his lungs out of them, the staccato rhythm of breath and thrust, the kiss against his lips, prize for obedience, for trusting. Severus' wasn't sure where he was, he knew nothing but his master's touch, the low violent growl of possession his ear.

"Mine!" Severus gasped, struggling against the closing darkness. "Say it!" He couldn't breath, couldn't speak, too much as his master's fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked slowly, desperately cruelly, violently, slowly.

"M-" he couldn't, his throat too tight, lungs too empty as he gripped and fought against it, his thrashing and writing only pulling his master deeper, heightening the pleasure and the pain until he wasn't sure which was which. The grip on his neck changed, slipped, allowed a single sharp breath of air as salve for his burning lungs, the rush of oxygen only making the pounding in his head louder when it was cut off without warning. Severus let out a strangled yelp of fear and pain and shock and then those lips descended again and he gasped and moaned and pressed himself up for more. "Mas, master please," the whisper barely slipped from him, almost lost between moans and whimpers and cries as Severus felt that sudden loosening, the sudden breaking of the dam and master removed the ring and released the hold. The rush of air, heat and release blinded him, he felt a gasp, a shudder, his name moaned and the weight of a man collapsing against his chest as bliss became darkness and he knew no more.


End file.
